


Christmas

by Ellie226



Series: Mark/El [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Play, Angst, Daddy Kink, Diapers, Discipline, F/M, Infantilism, Light Bondage, Spanking, self injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holiday stress brings out the worst in everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas

We were two days from Christmas, and I was panicking. We were supposed to have everyone to our place for Christmas Eve, and nothing was done yet. Standing in the middle of the kitchen looking around, I just wanted to sink to the floor and cry. 

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to go over to the refrigerator and pull out the ingredients to begin baking. I checked the clock; Daddy was working late. I had another half hour before he got home. That was enough time to have everything prepped and ready to go into the oven, and I could maybe even clean the bathroom.

I got down to work, mixing together the dough for the sausage roll and leaving it to rise before I started on the cookies. I had managed to get two batches baked and cooling and another in the oven before I felt his arms around me. I leaned back for a second, but then wiggled away, focusing on what I was doing.

“Are we having cookies for dinner?” he reached around me and grabbed one off the rack before sitting down on one of the stools.

I shook my head no. “Chinese?” I said, “I just have so much more stuff to do before tomorrow, and I need the kitchen.”

He nodded at that. “Anything special tonight?” he asked as he pulled out his cell phone to order.

I shook my head no again. I did not care. I was making gingerbread men; it was too bad Daddy was joking about having cookies for dinner. 

“What can I do Princess?” he asked. I knew that tone. It was the keeping El calm tone.

“Bathrooms? Please?” I looked up at him and smiled in an attempt to reassure him that everything was fine.

He nodded and left, and I tried to refocus on what I was doing. I figured I only had an hour before he made me stop.

Getting down to work, I managed to finish baking two types of cookies and the sausage roll before Daddy cut me off. We sat on the couch and listened to music while Daddy told me about his day.

“Sweetheart, you seem awfully quiet tonight.”

I shrugged, “just thinking about Christmas.”

“Wondering what Santa’s bringing for you?” he asked.

“There’s no such thing as Santa.”

“Really? Because I heard he was bringing you something pretty special.”

I irritably got up off of the couch and walked to the kitchen. It was stupid to be hanging out lounging when I could finish the cookies tonight. That would leave me with just the actual meal tomor-

I felt Mark’s hand grab my shoulder, “Excuse me? Are you supposed to do that?” he asked.

“I need to finish getting ready.”

“Pardon?” he said, turning me to look at him.

“I don’t have time for this Mark. We’re having people over, and the house is a mess, and I haven’t gotten anything done.”

“Who decides what you need to do?”

“It doesn’t always work that way,” I stomped my foot.

Mistake. He hates that. I got smacked once, and then he asked again, “who decides what you need to do?”

“We’re having all of these people at the house and it’s a pit and everything’s going to suck,” I felt like crying again.

“Come on Princess,” he led me back to the living room and to the couch. “We’re going to sit on the couch and talk. That’s all. We’re fine.”

“I need-”

“To do what you’re told,” he interrupted me. 

We sat down on the couch, and he pulled me into his lap. We sat in silence for a while. “What if everything sucks?” I asked him quietly.

“It’s just one day. Even if absolutely everything goes wrong, it’s just one day.”

“I just want my parents to be happy. I want them to look at me tomorrow and think I’m a competent adult.”

“Sweetheart,” Daddy brushed hair off of my face, “That’s never going to happen. Nobody has parents who think they’re competent adults. It’s an unrealistic expectation. You’re going to be 50, and your mother will be calling to make sure you remembered to buy the turkey for Thanksgiving. That’s just the way it works.”

I sighed, allowing myself to relax against Daddy. “I hate it. It’s not fair Daddy. They don’t...they’re inconsistent.”

Daddy nodded.

“Like they’ve always told people I was born 40 years old; that I was more of an adult then they were when I was growing up. Then they criticize every little thing and act like I’m completely incompetent.”

“It’s not going to be like that tomorrow.”

“Really? Because that’s what it’s been like for the last 20 Christmases. I’m not sure what you think is going to be different tomorrow.”

“It’s not going to be like that tomorrow because you are going to do what you practiced with Dr. Finnegan. What are you supposed to do when your mother says something to make you feel bad?”

“Don’t engage. Walk away,” I dutifully recited.

“That’s right. If she doesn’t get a response, and you keep leaving, she’ll stop. We’re conditioning her. You should like that; it’s like an experiment.”

“Can we use bubbles tonight?” I asked him.

“Are we done talking about this now?” Daddy sounded faintly amused. “Because we can talk more if you need to Baby.”

“It stresses me out; I don’t want to talk about it.”

“El, if you’re just stopping because you don’t want to talk about it anymore, have we really fixed the problem? I don’t want to have to spank you tomorrow, and if you aren’t ready to deal with your family, it’s going to end up happening because you’ll act up once they leave.”

“I’m tired Daddy. I just want my bath and then go to bed. With a story,” I quickly added.

Daddy sighed, clearly not happy with my answer, “alright. If that’s what you want. One last thing, and then we can be done talking about it unless you bring it up again: you can’t control how your family acts, but you do control how you respond.” His voice took on a note of warning, “And Eleanor Rose, if you act like a brat tomorrow, I’m going to spank you. So you need to really think about what’s bothering you if you get upset, and how you’re going to deal with it. I’m okay with asking people to leave early. I’m okay with us doing something fun tomorrow after everybody’s gone. We can color or just have a fire and cuddle. I don’t care what you need to do to unwind, as long as it’s something that you’re allowed to do normally. But if you make a bad choice to be naughty instead, you’re going to get a spanking. Understand?”

I nodded. “I want bubbles Daddy.” I was over this conversation, and I had seen a Lush bag in Daddy’s closet (not that I was snooping). So Daddy had gone shopping, and I wanted to see what he’d gotten for me.

“Well, you’re in luck. I was doing some last minute shopping, and I actually stopped and got you a brand new bubble bar. Are you ready to go take a bath?”

“Uh huh. Which bubble bar?” I was already tugging his hand into the bathroom. 

“It’s a seasonal one,” Daddy grabbed a bag before we entered the bathroom, and he pulled out my bubbles. “See? The woman at the store said it was good for relaxing.”

Great. It was another keeping El calm tactic. Whatever. I got to have a bubble bath. Once Daddy had me settled in the tub, I tried to focus on my bath. I enjoy baths. They’re relaxing. Except all I could think about was how if I just got out of the bathtub now I could finish cleaning the condo. And how much sleep does anyone really need? Daddy was all about me sleeping, but I used to get by on like 4 hours a night. And sure, I got super crazy there for a while, but do you know how much you get done when you only sleep for four hours each night?

Daddy interrupted my thoughts. “So, no Santa?”

“Nope. He’s a lie told to children to blackmail them into being good.”

“Hmm. And am I talking to GrownUpEl or my Princess right now?”

“I never believed. It doesn’t make any sense. He’s a creepy old man who watches us all the time, breaks into our home, and leaves presents. How is that not scary to people?” I paused, gathering bubbles in my hands, then looked up at him. “I’m okay with you giving me the presents still though.” As I was saying that, I felt a huge yawn coming on. I tried unsuccessfully to stifle it.

“I think it’s bedtime,” he said conversationally, leaning forward to rest on the edge of the bathtub.

“I’m not tired yet. Yawning isn’t caused by being tired. Nobody knows what causes it, but it probably has something to do with stretching your lungs.”

“Uh huh. Nobody knows what causes it, but people who are tired or bored yawn more. And I know you’re not bored. So you must be tired.”

“I’m not,” I tried to protest, but yawned again. Stupid traitorous body; I’d gotten my second wind, but apparently it didn’t realize that.

Daddy reached into the water to pull the stopper from the drain. “I got a new book for us to read tonight.”

I knew what he was doing, and I didn’t want to be handled into bed. “No Daddy, I’m not tired yet.”

“It’s time for bed,” he grabbed a towel, “come on, stand up so you can get dried off. Do you need lotion?”

I stayed sitting stubbornly. I didn’t want to go to bed yet. It was early still. 

Daddy sighed. “You’re going to bed now Princess. Do you need a spanking first?”

“No,” I knew I was being bratty, but I couldn’t help it. I was sick of this; I wanted to do what I wanted to do.

“Then you need to stand up so we can dry you off and get your jammies on.”

I stayed still, not wanting to concede defeat.

“Do I need to count?” I could feel him watching me, even though I wasn’t looking at him. 

“Eleanor, last chance. Do you really want bedtime spankings tomorrow and on Christmas? We can do that, but it seems like kind of a crappy way to spend our time.”

“I”m just not tired yet,” I whined, pulling my knees up. I could feel myself starting to cry; it was embarrassing. Every time I get frustrated, I cry.

“Princess, it’s going to be a long day tomorrow. You need to get into bed so you’re not cranky. Now, you can get out of the bathtub like a big girl, or I’m going to assume that I’ve got my very little baby here tonight. Is that what you need?” Daddy knelt back by the tub as he was talking, gently wiping the tears off my face.

I knew I should just get out of the tub. I’d lost; Daddy had won. I didn’t want a stupid diaper. But I had to try just one more time, “just a little bit longer Daddy? Pleeeeeease?”

“Nope. Stand up.” 

“Dadddddddddddyyyyyyyyyy. That’s not faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaair.”

“One. If I get to three you’re going to be pretty unhappy.”

“Two.”

I stood up. “I don’t like it when you count,” I told him.

“I hate it when I count; I’d much prefer that you just do what I ask the first time,” Daddy hurriedly toweled me off, and then sent me to the bedroom with a smack. 

I went to the drawer to grab pajamas, but Daddy stopped me, “nope. I’m picking them out tonight. You can go sit on the bed please.”

I sat on the bed, pouting. My mood was not improved by footy pajamas. “Nooooooo, I don’t like thooooooose.”

Daddy walked over to me and laid the pajamas down. He bent so he was at eye level with me. “You’re done. Do you understand me? I get that you’re stressed about tomorrow, but this attitude problem is gone now. If you make any more bad choices about this, you will be getting a spanking, and I’m going to treat you like a baby; do you want a diaper?” His voice was calm and controlled, but pretty clearly over what I was doing.

I started crying. I hated this. He was mean. I didn’t want to go to bed yet. Daddy motioned for me to lay back. “Do you need lotion?”

“No,” I sniffled. I didn’t want him touching me at all. He was being bossy.

“Okay,” his voice sounded pretty grim as he helped me into my pajamas. I wanted to tell him they were too hot, but I hated those stupid diapers. Once he had finished zipping the pajamas, I crawled up to my spot in the bed and curled on my side, facing away from him. I hoped that my message was clear without it being so blatant that Daddy considered it another bad choice.

“I’m going to go check the doors. Are you going to come with me?”

I shook my head no, “I don’t want to.”

“Alright,” Daddy left the room. I listened to him puttering around the condo. The next thing I knew, he was picking me up. 

“What?” I mumbled, half asleep.

“Bottle then sleep Baby.” Daddy settled us both into our chair and slipped the bottle into my mouth. He had started asking me, and I only occasionally wanted a bottle. This was a pretty clear message. I had acted like a naughty little baby; I would have whined, but I was so tired now.

“Story Daddy,” I ordered around the nipple.

“While you’re drinking your bottle; then it’s time for sleep.”

I nodded. I didn’t really understand why I’d been arguing about sleep so much; this was nice. I half paid attention as Daddy told me a story. I smiled as I heard what he was saying.

“We’re not going to have any bad dreams; it’s going to be a good night. And then tomorrow, after everyone leaves,” his voice was quiet, “we’re going to light a fire and listen to music. And I have a present for you to open before bed. And then, you’re going to take a bath and we’re going to go to bed. And you’re only going to have good dreams again. When you wake up, we’re going to have those chocolate croissants you bought while you see the magnificent present that I got for you from Santa. And it’s going to be the best Christmas we’ve ever had.” He rocked gently as he talked. It was a stupid technique Dr. Finnegan had come up with, but I found it oddly soothing to have Daddy narrate the way we’d like things to go; it was like by saying it we could make it real.

I pushed the bottle away, “no more Daddy,” I said sleepily. I wanted to go to bed. The sooner we got through tomorrow during the day, the sooner we could get to tomorrow night. “Bed,” I mumbled.

“Okay,” he kept his voice quiet as he stood up and walked to the bed. After gently laying me down and fixing the covers, he ghosted a hand over my forehead, and then kissed me. When he spooned up behind me, I relaxed into him; “sorry I was naughty, I love you,” I mumbled.

“I know,” he said, kissing me again, then hugging me. “I love you too. Now go to sleep.”

When I woke up the next morning, I felt tense again. I wanted to spring out of bed to make everything perfect. I tried to get out of bed, but I felt Daddy’s arms, holding me.

“Nope. Go back to sleep. It’s early; everything’s fine.”

I lay still for a while, listening to Daddy fall back asleep. I wanted to go to sleep with him. I knew he wouldn’t like it if I got out of bed, but there was so much to do. 

Slowly slowly slowly, I slid out from under his arm and put my feet on the floor. I avoided the creaky floor boards, and made my way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

I managed to make it without him noticing, and I quickly set to work, trying to clean and cook simultaneously while remaining silent. It worked alright for a while, but then Daddy came down the stairs.

“What’cha doing out of bed Baby?” he asked me. His voice seemed loud in the near-silence of the house.

I looked at him and then smiled brightly, “Getting ready for everybody Daddy. Are you hungry?”

“I am. I think we have something to take care of first though Princess,” taking me by the hand, he led me back upstairs to the bedroom.

“Do we need to go back to bed for a little while Daddy?” I asked him hopefully.

“No. We need to have a discussion about staying in bed when Daddy tells you to.” Daddy settled onto the bed and began stripping my pajamas off of me. 

As much as I hated the stupid baby pajamas, I didn’t want them gone right now, “No Daddy,” I told him, “I’m cold.”

“I can fix that,” he helped me drape myself over his knee, and then he gently chafed my bottom with his hand. “What did I tell you Baby?”

“Stay in bed,” I said quietly, “But we have company coming.”

“Do I care about the company coming?”

“No sir,” I whispered. He didn’t. And I should have stayed in bed; I should have been grateful that Daddy was most worried that I was okay. “Sorry Daddy,” I told him, ashamed of myself.

“Thank you for apologizing Baby,” he lifted his hand and brought it down, “But you know that sorry doesn’t fix it when you’re naughty.”

“Yes,” I replied, squirming, “Ah! Daddy, too hard,” I told him, wiggling.

Daddy didn’t bother to respond to that, simply continuing the spanking. It was fast, but he was spanking hard too. Tears were dripping down my face by the time he was done.

When he finished, he helped me stand up. He brushed the tears off of my face and hugged me.

“Now,” he said, standing up, “Lay down Baby.”

I started to climb back under the covers, but he grabbed my arm, “No, not under the covers. We have to get up now.”

“But you said to lay down Daddy,” I pointed out, not sure what he was doing.

“Uh huh,” he guided my body to lay across the bed, and then he walked to his closet. “What did I tell you was going to happen if you kept making bad choices?”

My eyes widened, “No Daddy!” I begged, “That was last night. I don’t need a diaper.”

“I warned you Princess, and you knew what the consequences would be.”

I tried to roll off of the bed; I was hoping that if I could stand up we could have a reasonable conversations. That didn’t work.

“El,” he told me, walking toward the bed, “If you make me, I will spank you again. If you make me spank you again today, you’ll be wearing it today and tomorrow. Now lay down so I can put your diaper on.”

“I hate diapers,” I complained, laying back down like he told me.

“I know,” he said, not sounding particularly sympathetic, “That is what makes them work so well. Hips up Baby.”

I blushed as he slid the diaper under my bottom, and then I watched him with worried eyes as he put lotion and powder on me. After he fastened the tabs, he helped me sit up.

That put some pressure on my bladder, and I realized to my horror that I hadn’t bothered to go potty when I first got up. “Daddy, I gotta go,” I whispered frantically.

“Go ahead. I can change you,” he stood over me, his arms crossed.

“You’re going to make me use them? With people here?” I was horrified. Diapers were relatively new, and Daddy had never made me use them except when we were home along.

“I am. Now go on Princess. We’ve got to get ready.”

I lay back down, curling into a ball and rocking myself.

“Do you want Stella?” he asked, his voice more sympathetic now as he handed her to me.

“Uh huh,” I clutched Stella to my chest and focused on letting go.

Once I was finished, Daddy cleaned me up quickly and put a new diaper on. “Now, we need to get dressed, and then we’ll finish the last minute stuff,” he narrated, helping me stand up. He helped me dress, and then we walked downstairs again and ate breakfast before we started cooking again.

We only had about an hour before everyone started showing up, but Daddy was convinced that I had enough done.

“Baby, we have fruit salad, sausage rolls, frittata, bagels, muffins, and what looks to be enough cookies to feed a small army. We’re good.”

I lifted my hand to my mouth, worrying my lip between my fingers. Daddy grabbed my hand and smacked the back of it, hard.

“Ouch!” I complained, cradling my hand against my chest.

“Nope,” he said, grabbing a wooden spoon, “I want that hand back now please. Palm up this time,” he waited expectantly.

“No Daddy!” I told him, “I’ll ‘member.”

“One.”

I thrust my hand out, not wanting him to count, and he calmly turned it palm up. Then he brought the spoon down three times.

I jerked and cried out, but I held pretty still for him.

“Stop picking at yourself Eleanor,” he warned me, gesturing with the spoon once he was finished. “I know you’re stressed out, but you don’t hurt yourself. Come on Princess,” he put the spoon back and grabbed my uninjured hand, “Let’s go sit in the living room.”

I didn’t want to, but he forced me into the living room, and we cuddled together on the couch until my sister got there. 

My sister was first, but soon the house was full. We’d only invited my parents, brother, sister, brother-in-law, and nephew, but it was too much. 

I escaped into the kitchen and stood in front of the sink. Staring out the window, I took a couple of deep breaths, and then I felt Daddy’s arms around me. “You okay?” he murmured into my ear.

I smiled and nodded, “It’s okay. We’re fine. We just have to get through a few more hours.” I turned and smiled at him, “We’re okay.” Moving back into the living room, I began refilling drinks. It was just two hours.

And then my brother started talking, “God, remember that Christmas that El pitched a fit?”

I tried to smile and change the subject. I didn’t want to talk about that Christmas; it always started a fight.

But he wouldn’t let up. Turning to Mark, he continued, “Yeah, she was freaking out about everything that year.”

“Could we not tell that story please?” I kept my voice pleasant, “I really don’t like it.”

“No, it’s a great story-”

I interrupted him, “It’s really not. Hey, did you guys want to do presents?”

My brother gave me this look, and then started ranting, “This is just like it always it. We’re having a nice time but God forbid El is unhappy with anything anyone does.”

I stared at the ground, not sure of what to say to that. 

“You’re such a fucking princess. Why are you so damn prissy? Every goddamn Christmas...”

My mother turned and engaged my brother-in-law in conversation, and I focused on not crying. I could tell that my face was bright red, “Excuse me,” I mumbled, standing up to walk into the kitchen. 

Standing on the other side of the door, I tried to breathe through it. We had talked about this. It was okay that his memories of our childhood weren’t the same as mine. It didn’t matter what he thought, and I didn’t need to worry that he was unhappy or angry. I wasn’t the person causing a scene.

I realized that I was rubbing my hands against my thighs, typically a good indicator that I wanted to hurt myself. Instead, I closed my eyes and thought about later that night. Everyone would be gone, and it would just be Daddy and me. 

Then I heard Daddy, “I don’t know how holidays typically go in this family, but if I ever hear you talk to her like that again, I’m going to kick your ass. Excuse me,” I heard him stand up and start walking, and then he was in the kitchen with me. 

I backed away from the door, standing in the far corner from him. “You shouldn’t have done that. It just sets him off more,” I said dully. “It’s easier just to let it go. Otherwise, everyone gets mad and it isn’t worth it.” I kept my hands clasped in front of me, focused on not digging my nails in.

“It is worth it. He shouldn’t talk like that to you,” he walked across the floor toward me, and I tried to back further into the corner.

“El, it’s okay. He can’t say whatever he wants.”

“But now he’s going to be mad,” I was trying not to cry. I didn’t want to be all puffy and red when I went back out. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t let it upset me. If I didn’t, he wouldn’t say it.”

Daddy was next to me now, and he pulled me into a hug, “Do I care if he’s mad?” he asked quietly.

“No, but it makes everyone else upset. Sarah will start spending holidays with her in-laws if I’m not careful. I can’t make him stop, but if I don’t engage him it doesn’t get too bad.”

“Do I care if everyone else is upset?” he asked.

“I care,” I said quietly, emphasizing I. “I want people to be happy. It’s Christmas; I just want everything to be nice.”

“But it isn’t nice,” Daddy pointed out. “He’s being an asshole, and everyone else acts like it’s okay. I don’t know where you guys got this idea, but your feelings actually matter just as much as everyone else. And everything isn’t nice if you’re hiding in the kitchen trying to ward off a panic attack.”

“I’m okay,” I pulled away, blinking and wiping my face. “I’m fine. He just says stuff; it doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does. It does mean something that he says this crap to you El, and it’s not happening in our house. This is our house; he can’t come in here and say whatever he wants to you. We have rules.”

I nodded at that. I didn’t agree, but I didn’t want to have this conversation with him while we had company.

“You ready to go back out?”

“It’s going to be awkward,” I mumbled.

“Probably. But that’s not your fault, and it’s not your problem to worry about.”

I sighed, but took his offered hand, and we walked back into the living room. Michael was determinedly not looking at me. 

Daddy was sitting in a chair, and I sat down on the floor in front of him. Smiling at Jake, I held out my hands, “You want to come see Aunt El kiddo?” I asked him.

He toddled over and settled himself on my lap. “Should we see what you got?” I said.

Everyone was being quiet, and I was trying to force through it. Jake was our common thing; everyone could be nice so that he had a good Christmas.

I managed to get everyone relaxed enough to open gifts, and people just wandered off after that. I smiled and played the good hostess through the end of the party, and then I tried to clean up.

As I was wadding up wrapping paper, Daddy grabbed my hand, “I want to sit down with you for a little bit,” he told me.

“No, we need to clean up.” I didn’t make eye contact, too focused on getting everything cleared away.

“Nope, come here,” he tried to tug me away from the garbage, and I jerked my hand.

“I want to clean this up. You need to wait 15 minutes.”

“Excuse me?” Daddy’s voice was icy now.

I looked up, hands on my hips, “It’s 15 minutes. If you want to sit, that’s fine. I want everything clean.”

Daddy grabbed me by both arms, bending so that he could look directly in my eyes. “Eleanor, this is your last chance; I really want you to consider what you’re doing and how you want this night to go. I’d like you to come and cuddle with me now please.”

I looked him in the eyes, and thought, then I jerked away, “It’s only 15 minutes. Why do you have to be so darn anal?” Even as I was running headfirst toward a spanking, I knew better than to curse at Daddy. 

Daddy looked at me, disappointment pretty clear in his face, “Oh sweetpea. Bad choice.” He didn’t say anything else, electing to simply grab my hand and then start toward the bedroom.

“Ow. You let me go,” I squealed. “I need to clean up,” I tried to pull backwards, but Daddy wasn’t having it.

He turned around and picked me up, slinging me over his shoulder so I was hanging head down. “Keep it up Princess. You’re just making it worse for yourself.” 

I squirmed and complained, but Daddy didn’t put me down until we were in the bedroom. Dropping me on the bed with a thump, he quickly grabbed the spoon.

I stood up, covering my backside with both hands, “You don’t need that Daddy! I’m sorry. I want to sit and cuddle with you now.” I backed away from him.

“Don’t make me come and get you Princess,” he warned, sitting down on the bed and crooking a finger at me.

I shook my head. "No Daddy. I didn't mean it; I don't want a spanking. I want to cuddle with you," I plead.

"One," Daddy didn't bother to debate anymore with me.

I whined and squirmed, still not wanting to walk over to Daddy.

"Two. El, just come over here. Let's get this over with."

I stared at him, and then shook my head, "No Daddy. I don't want a spanking."

"Three," Daddy stood up with a sigh, and then he walked over to me and grabbed my hand. "You're already in trouble Baby. Please don't fight with me anymore."

I cried as Daddy pulled my jeans down. After checking my diaper, he looked at me, "Do you need to use your diaper before we do this?"

I shook my head, "No Daddy. I don't want toooooo."

He sighed again at that, but he quickly unstuck the tabs and helped me lay across his lap. "I love you Baby; I love you so much that I'm not going to let you get away with being naughty. I'm sorry that you had a rough day today, but that's no excuse for this behavior."

He rested a hand on my bottom and left it there for a minute. "Now, why are we doing this?"

"Because I didn't do what you told me to," I whimpered, "I'm sorry Daddy."

"I know you are. What else did you do that was a bad choice?"

"I was too sassy with you. Sorry Daddy. Really I am," I squirmed uncomfortably, and he raised his hand, bringing it down hard.

"Sorry or not, this is going to happen. What did I warn you about last night?"

"You said that I'd be in trouble if I was bad because I was upset." 

"I did. And you are," he stopped lecturing after that, focused more on spanking me. Once I was squirming and letting out little noises, he tapped the spoon against my bottom.

"Now, I warned you last night. And, I warned you today. This isn't acceptable," he raised the spoon and brought it down.

"Sorry Daddy," I was crying and begging after that. I couldn't stop, wiggling and trying to convince him that I was sorry and wouldn't be naughty ever ever again.

After a while, I stopped begging and just lay still, waiting for him to be finished.

It was like a signal to him. The spoon stopped for a minute, "Why did we do this now Baby?"

"Because I telled you no; that’s naughty."

I squealed again when he brought the spoon down hard, "That's right. You were very naughty tonight Baby. I expect better from you; I know you know how to act right Princess, and I want to see good behavior. Now, we would be all done now Eleanor, but you didn’t listen to Daddy when I told you to come to me.”

I wailed when he said that, knowing what he meant. Daddy didn’t surprise me when he smacked my bottom another dozen times with the spoon. 

“You don’t make Daddy count when he tells you something.”

He helped me stand up at that, and then he hugged me, "You ready to act like my good girl for me now sweetheart?"

I nodded, sobbing hard.

"That's good to hear. Why don't we do your bath Princess? Then, we'll do something fun."

I nodded again, following docilely as we walked to the bathroom. After Daddy filled up the tub, I climbed in, hissing and jumping up as the hot water re-ignited the fire in my bottom.

"If you don't want a sore bottom, you need to behave yourself."

"It hurts a lot Daddy," I whined.

"It hurts because you were naughty El," Daddy told me, "Now sit yourself back down. You need a bath."

I whined unhappily as I sat back down, but I stayed sitting. 

“There’s my good girl,” Daddy said approvingly. “Look up for me Baby.” He dumped water over my hair and then began shampooing.

I moaned a little, relaxing into the sensation of his strong fingers against my scalp.

“I was thinking,” he said conversationally, “That we should paint the ceiling in here.”

“It doesn’t need to be touched up,” I told him, “The paint is fine.”

“Not a touch up. I was thinking paint something on it. Maybe like the sky. I’d like a blue bathroom. We could have stars up there.”

“What about the walls?”

“I’m not sure. I was just thinking the other day. It would be nice when you were soaking in the bath. Glow in the dark stars for you to see.”

I smiled at that, and then tilted my head back so he could rinse.

“My sleepy girl,” he said affectionately, “I think we need to go to bed after this.”

“I’m not tired,” I protested.

“Santa can’t come if you don’t go to bed Princess.”

“Santa never comes anyway,” I told him.

“Maybe because you don’t go to bed,” he said, and I wrinkled my nose at him.

He was right though; I was tired. Daddy hurried through the rest of the bath, helping me out and wrapping me into a fluffy towel. When I walked into the bedroom, I went to find pajamas but was stopped.

“Diaper first Princess.”

“No Daddy,” I argued, “I don’t need it.”

“I told you if you gave me any trouble it was today and tomorrow. Go on now, lay down for me.”

I pouted as I lay across the bed, but I was still plenty sore from my spanking. 

Daddy made quick work of slipping my diaper on. Then he grabbed pajamas for me and helped me into them. “You look beautiful,” he told me, tapping my nose before he brushed and braided my hair.

“Into bed Baby,” he pulled the covers down.

“Doors Daddy,” I told him. “And I’m thirsty still.”

He groaned as he picked me up, “You’re bossy,” he teased.

“I’m careful,” I corrected him, resting my head on his shoulder and sucking my thumb. “Stella too.”

He carried us around, checking doors and windows, and then he filled my bottle with water. 

“Cookies?” I said, smiling endearingly. “I want a gingerbread man Daddy.”

He rolled his eyes at me, “Cookie.”

“Two Daddy. They’re not too big. And I made them myself, so they’re not as bad for you as the store cookies. No high fructose corn syrup.”

“Nice try Princess, but cookies are cookies. You can have one.”

I pouted a little as Daddy walked over to the cookie jar, pulling out two cookies. Handing me one, he took a bite of the other. We went back upstairs, and he started reading to me as I drank from my bottle and ate my cookie. I fell asleep before he finished the chapter, and I slept through the night.

I woke up first. Daddy normally woke up before me, and I couldn’t remember ever waking up first two days in a row.

I didn’t want to get up. I wanted to close my eyes and stay sleeping until Christmas was over. Daddy kept joking about Santa Claus, and I didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

There was no way that Daddy would keep sleeping all day though. I leaned a little so I could check the time. 6:00 AM. Daddy would maybe sleep another 2 hours, but that was the absolute maximum. I decided to close my eyes and enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasted.

Mark’s POV

I woke up when I felt El shifting; a year of being on pins and needles, waiting for carve up her arms or worse, I’d become a light sleeper. I still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to get out of bed without me yesterday. She was awake, but she didn’t rush to wake me up.

I listened to her movements, and then I felt her snuggling next to me. I guess she wasn’t ready to get up yet. I wanted to get out of bed and open presents. I couldn’t wait for her to see what I’d found. 

She curled tightly against me, mumbling as she fell asleep, and I felt myself moving one of my arms, automatically stroking her back. Maybe sleeping a little bit more wouldn’t be the worst thing.

El’s POV

I woke up again a little bit later, my bladder insistent. I didn’t like that. I could try to slip out from under Daddy’s arm, sneak into the bathroom. Of course, he would catch me, and he’d probably tack on a few extra days in diapers to prove a point. 

I whimpered a little, frustrated. I hated using the diapers; I hated being this dependent on Daddy. With another little whine of frustration, I curled on my side.

Daddy’s arm curled around me, “What’s the matter Baby?” he asked, his voice sleepy.

I shook my head, not wanting to talk to him right now.

Daddy propped himself up, leaning over me, “Princess? You okay?” he was starting to sound more awake.

I squirmed around, burying my face against Daddy’s chest, “I gotta go,” I mumbled quickly.

“Go where?” Daddy sounded genuinely confused, and clenched my fists in frustration.

“Go Daddy,” I said insistently, not willing to explain further.

He hugged me, rubbing my back. “Go on then Baby. I’ll change you,” he murmured, kissing me on top of the head.

I shook my head, whimpering a little, “I don’t like it.”

“Shhhhh,” he crooned. “It’s fine.” He reached down, patting my bottom gently.

I made one more little whine of frustration, and then I felt myself wetting the diaper. It had gotten easier than the first time, but that didn’t mean I liked it.

“That’s my good girl,” he said. “Such a good girl for me,” Daddy stood up, going to gather the supplies he needed to change my diaper.

I shifted, waiting for him. When he came back, he rubbed my hip, and I looked up at him pleadingly. “Please Daddy? It’s Christmas. I don’t want diapers today. I’ll be really really really good; I promise.”

Mark’s POV

I wanted to back down. She was looking at me with those wide eyes, and she was right. It was Christmas. It was our first Christmas like this, and I wanted to be a fun Daddy.

I almost let up, but then I remembered discussions with Dr. Finnegan. The boundaries and structure we had made El feel better; they made her feel safe. Even if she hated them, the rules were for her own good.

I smiled sympathetically at her, “Sorry Baby. If you keep behaving yourself, then tomorrow you’ll be back to your big girl panties.”

She made a face at that pronouncement and jiggled her right foot. “I don’t like them,” she whined at me.

“Do you want to wear diapers tomorrow too?” I asked, making my face stern.

She shook her head no, still pouting.

“Then you better not have a temper tantrum. Little babies have tantrums, not big girls like you.” 

El crossed her arms over her chest, making a little humphing noise of displeasure. I decided it wasn’t worth the argument and focused on changing her. I didn’t like to leave her in wet diapers; she hated using them to begin with. I wasn’t going to let her get a rash. 

Tugging her pajama bottoms back up, I smiled at her, “Daddy’s good girl. Ready to go see what Santa brought Princess?”

That was not the thing to say. Her frown deepened, “There’s no Santa,” she spat at me. Getting off of the bed, she stormed off to the bathroom.

El’s POV

Stupid fucking Santa. I wanted to stomp my feet and slam the door, but I managed to restrain myself. Instead, I shut the door, perhaps slightly harder than strictly necessary, and locked it. Then, I pulled the shower curtain aside and climbed into the bathtub. I dragged the shower curtain back so that I was enclosed. 

Sitting on the bottom of the tub, I wrapped my arms around my knees and glared at the drain. I just needed ten minutes alone. I hated Santa. I hated Christmas. 

“El? Baby?” Daddy knocked lightly on the door, “We don’t lock doors.”

“Leave me alone,” I said, surly.

“Not the way it works Princess. You need to open up the door.”

I shook my head; he couldn’t see me, but I was too angry to find words right now. At least, I was too angry to find words that were going to get me anything other than another spanking and soap in my mouth.

“Eleanor,” Daddy’s voice had taken on a warning note, “You need to open the door. Now. Before I have to search for a key; you don’t want me to do that.”

“Ten minutes,” I managed to force myself to say.

“No, now.”

I wanted to pound my head against a wall or scratch my arms. I wanted him to leave me alone for 10 freaking minutes so that I could breathe. I must have managed to say the last bit because I heard Daddy responding. 

“You need to open the door now Eleanor.”

I curled up in the tub, not wanting to talk. I finally forced myself to say something. “I can’t,” I told him. 

“Eleanor Rose,” Daddy sounded shocked now.

I couldn’t open the door, but I could tell him where the key was, “The key’s in the bowl on my dresser.”

I listened to Daddy as he walked away from the door and then returned. A moment later, he was in the bathroom. 

“Baby?” he said, pulling the curtain aside. “El, what’s wrong Princess?”

Mark’s POV

El was curled into a ball in the bathtub, shivering. “There’s no such thing as Santa,” her voice was little and empty.

“I know Baby,” I had lowered my voice, like I was talking to Barnaby when he spooked. 

“I don’t like it when you tease me.”

I climbed into the bathtub with her, pulling her up so that she was resting with her back to my chest. “I’m sorry.”

She sounded childish as she ordered me, “Don’t do it again.”

I hugged her, rubbing her upper arms in an attempt to make her stop shivering. “I won’t. Daddy’s sorry.”

She relaxed a little bit, grabbing one of my hands and threading her fingers through mine. Fiddling with my fingers, we sat silently.

“My mom told me that I could write a letter to Santa,” she finally said slowly, her voice quiet but clear. “I didn’t know a lot of words yet, but I knew my letters, and the sounds they made,” she stopped.

I waited, finally speaking, “You were a smart little girl,” I commented.

“She wanted to help me, but I said no. I didn’t want her to know my secrets. So I wrote the letter; Santa was supposed to be magic. He would know what I meant even if I didn’t spell all the words right. He could sound it out like they told us at school.”

“What did your letter say Baby?” I prompted.

“I telled Santa about Daniel. Mommy said that Santa would give me what I asked for. I just wanted Daniel to not touch me no more.”

“What happened Christmas morning Baby?”

“It wasn’t Christmas morning. I got presents then. They said that Santa brought me my baby doll and her cradle. It was the next week. Daniel watched us so they could go to a party. Sass was at a slumber party; Mikey was little, and he had to go to bed early. I was ‘llowed to stay up to celebrate New Year’s.”

She paused, slipping her thumb in her mouth and moving so that she was resting her cheek against my chest. I ran my fingers through her hair.

“I didn’t want to stay up; Daniel said I was being a bad girl ‘cause I wasn’t listening.” she lisped around her thumb, “I just wanted to go to sleep and not play games with him no more, but he wouldn’t let me. That’s when I knew Santa wasn’t real.”

She turned to me, her eyes pleading, “I tried to be good Daddy. I really did. And I only wanted the one thing.”

Sometimes it was like navigating a field full of landmines, dealing with El. I would think we’d dealt with all of the triggers, and then I’d stumble onto a new memory. I was quiet, stroking her hair and not sure what to say.

El’s POV

I cuddled with Daddy in the bath, wanting him to tell me something that would fix it. I wanted Santa. Everybody else got to have Santa. And sure, I’d be about twenty years behind my peers, but I wanted Daddy to tell me something that made me believe Santa didn’t forget me.

So I waited. Daddy always knew what to say.

After a while, I started getting stiff. The tub, although a wonderful place to hide when I need somewhere small, is not the most comfortable. I tried to squirm into a new position that would make me more comfortable, and then Daddy’s tummy growled.

“Baby?” Daddy said cautiously, “I’m getting a little hungry. Why don’t we go have breakfast together. I won’t tease you anymore today Princess.”

I slowly unfurled myself from the bottom of the tub and climbed out. I didn’t bother to wait for Daddy, deciding instead to go and retrieve Stella from where she’d been abandoned on the bed. I sat down on the bed, listening to Daddy groan as he got out.

“Come on Princess. Let’s go eat,” he held out his hand to me, and I shook my head, tears prickling my eyelashes.

“Baby, chocolate croissants,” he said, cajolingly. “I’m honestly going to let you eat chocolate for breakfast. You should take advantage while you can.”

I curled onto my side, facing away from him. “I’m not hungry,” I told him.

“You’ve got to eat. You’ve got to take your pill,” he pointed out.

“I don’t want it. It doesn’t do anything anyway.”

Daddy came over to the bed and pulled at my arm, “Sit up,” he ordered.

I shook my head and curled into a tighter ball, “Stop it.”

“That growly voice doesn’t work with me Princess. You can’t be crabby enough to run me off.”

I balled up my fists, focusing on not hitting him. Hitting Daddy always meant a spanking, and I didn’t want a spanking. If he spanked me, then I’d cry. And then everything would be like normal because I’d be too darn clingy to remain angry at Daddy for not fixing things.

I was going to stay here until he fixed things. That was what he did. That was why we did this. Daddy was supposed to fix things.

Mark’s POV

“Fine,” I said, surprised by how irritated my voice sounded. “I’m going downstairs to eat breakfast. You’re welcome to join me once you’re ready to behave.” I paused, looking at her appraisingly, “I’d think long and hard about how you want the rest of the day to go though Eleanor because if you come downstairs with this attitude, I’m going to spank you, and then you’ll come right back up here.”

I didn’t bother to look at her, turning and walking downstairs and to the kitchen. I made myself some coffee and put the croissants in, and then I went to sit on the living room. Which was full of Christmas between the tree and the presents and everything else she’d put out.

It was 9:00 on Christmas morning, and I really wanted the day to just be over. I looked at our stockings. I’d filled El’s with all of this stuff that I thought she would adore, and now she was upstairs pouting and I was down here...pouting too I guess.

I should go back upstairs. It’s my job to be the one who tries to smooth this stuff over. We had agreed. And, El needed to take her pill which meant I had to get her to eat some breakfast.

As I was thinking this, I was interrupted by the sound of someone sniffling. El slowly crept into view, clad in the special Christmas pajamas she had insisted were completely necessary, holding Stella tightly. 

“Daddy?” she whispered, her voice quivery.

El’s POV

I had lain in bed for about 15 minutes, staring at the door. Daddy would come back. He would walk into the room and cuddle with me. I might get a smack or two for being bratty, but he’d make me feel better too.

When he didn’t magically appear, I started thinking about everything. Daddy loved Christmas; he’d been looking forward to it being just us for like three months now. With everyone else’s schedule, we didn’t have anyplace to be all day, and he had been excited to spend it together. So had I.

And now, he was sitting downstairs, and I’d made him mad. No wonder Santa never visited; I was awful. Michael had been right yesterday. I got mad whenever I didn’t get exactly what I wanted, and I made things hard for everyone.

I forced myself up and out of bed, taking the extra two minutes to pull the covers up. I told myself it was because Daddy liked it better when I did, but I think I was just stalling for time. Once that was done, I didn’t have anything left to do except go downstairs.

He was sitting on the couch, and he looked mad. I brushed tears away from my eyes and stared at the ground.

“Daddy?” I said, waiting.

When he didn’t respond, I decided to continue. “I’m sorry I ruined Christmas,” I whispered.

I heard him sigh, “Come here Baby.”

“Are you gonna spank me?” I asked him, not wanting to walk to him until I had an answer.

“No, I’m not going to spank you. Come here.”

I slowly made my way to him, and he pulled me into his lap. 

“You didn’t ruin Christmas,” he told me.

“I was crabby. And I locked myself in the bathroom.” I was tense, waiting.

He sighed again, and began playing with my hair, “You didn’t ruin Christmas,” he repeated.

Mark’s POV

“I think that maybe we should have some breakfast,” I told her. That would buy me some time to figure out what was going on before we started opening presents. Which I had thought she would love, but I was now worried was going to be another source of frustration and tears.

“‘K,” she was quiet and docile now, and I was forseeing a day with a Princess shadow. 

“Come on. I put the croissants in. I bet they’re almost done.”

She climbed off of my lap and watched me stand up, worrying her lip with her teeth. “Don’t,” I told her, running my thumb over the teethmarks she’d left.

El followed me into the kitchen and settled herself on her usual stool, watching me move around. I gave her a sippy cup with milk in it, and then I grabbed her medication and our breakfast.

“Eat this,” I instructed, handing her a plate with a pastry and some fruit.

She didn’t say anything to that, simply doing as I had asked. I made myself a plate and got a second cup of coffee, and then I sat next to her.

“Good?” I asked, watching her pull the croissant apart.

“Uh huh.” 

I reached a hand out to push her hair away from her face, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” she mumbled, still not making eye contact.

“Do you want to light a fire after breakfast? We could just cuddle for a while Princess,” I offered her. Maybe if I got her cuddly and comfortable, she’d be able to tell me some more.

“I don’t care,” she shrugged.

I watched her finish eating. She got up to wash her plate, taking mine as well. Wordlessly, she tidied away the remains from breakfast. When she came back around the island to grab the remaining croissants, I stood up and picked her up as well.

“We’re going to go upstairs,” I murmured, “And brush teeth and hair. And wash your face. Then, we’re going to come back down and cuddle.”

I may not know how to fix this, but I could pretend that I did. She didn’t object, but she didn’t relax against me the way she normally did. I tried to ignore it, focusing on getting her cleaned up. Once I had that accomplished, I carried her back down the stairs and started the fire. Then we settled on the couch.

“Thank you for making the bed,” I told her, kissing her cheek. 

She didn’t respond, staring at the fire.

I wasn’t sure what to say or how to make today go better than it had started out. And I wasn’t sure if telling her that was the way to go.

But not saying anything wasn’t working. “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong Baby.”

She didn’t say anything for a minute, running her finger over Stella’s mouth. Finally, when I thought I’d have to come up with something else, she started talking. 

“I hate Christmas,” she admitted softly.

I nodded, as though that made perfect sense. She’d only insisted on going and picking out a real Christmas tree. And stringing up lights. And making Christmas cookies. She’d had a special Christmas playlist on her iPod since Thanksgiving. It in no way confused me that she was now saying she hated Christmas.

“Do you know why?” that seemed like a good question; it seemed like the kind of thing Dr. Finnegan would ask.

“It’s too much,” she said, pausing between each word, “Everything’s just too much.”

I stayed silent at that, stroking her hair and waiting for her to continue.

“It’s buying presents, and I worry that nobody will like what I get for them. And that I won’t like what I get. And everybody expects you to be excited. And people are mean and rude Daddy. And it’s too loud and too busy and too much.”

Now that she was explaining it, that actually made a lot of sense. I should have seen this coming; we should have tried to tone it down. 

I decided to take the anxiety one bit at a time, “I’m sure that I’m going to love what you got me Princess. You’re a very good present buyer. And I know you’re going to love what I got you. And even if we don’t, it’s okay. Because it’s good to just have a day together, right?”

“Ye-es,” she said slowly, somehow making it two syllables.

“So that’s that part. And it’s just you and me today, so we just have to not be mean and rude and loud.”

“I already ruined that,” she told me.

I shook my head, “No, we had a rough start. It’s early; the rest of the day is going to be fine.”

“Michael was right yesterday; I ruin Christmas every year. Everybody gets mad at me, and I hate it,” she sounded like she was fighting back tears now, and I was wishing that I’d made good on my threat to kick Michael’s ass.

“Christmas isn’t ruined,” I forced myself to keep my voice level and repeat something that sounded like it was going to be the day’s mantra. “We’re going to have a good day.”

“This is why Santa doesn’t come,” she said, her voice low. “It’s cause I’m bad.”

Alright. That was enough of this. Clearly, patient and calm repetition wasn’t helping. Moving on to plan B. 

I pulled El up so that she was sitting up and turned her to look at me. “You are not bad. Santa didn’t fix things when you were little because he’s pretend; you know that. And he’s not a pretend thing we’re going to have in this house anymore, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

She looked angry, and she tried to pull away, “Leggo,” she ordered.

 

“I won’t. You listen to me Eleanor. I don’t want to hear you say that you’re bad again. If I do, you’ll be writing lines. Understood?”

She nodded, still struggling to pull away. Finally, giving in, she pushed forward to bury herself against me.

We sat like that for a while, not talking. I was exhausted already, and I didn’t know what to say or do. 

El solved that problem. “Do you want to see what I got you?” she asked tentatively. She pulled away from me and made eye contact.

I smiled at her, happy to see that she was ready to move on. “Of course. How do you want to open presents Baby? Should we do stockings first, and then the rest? Or we can take breaks...” I trailed off. Meshing Christmas traditions within a relationship were always a mess.

“Maybe stockings?” she asked.

“Okay. Can you go get them?” I nodded toward where we’d hung them, and she got off of my lap to retrieve them both. 

Bringing them back, she settled herself on the opposite end of the couch and watched me expectantly. 

“Go on Baby,” I encouraged her. “I think you’re going to like what I found for you.”

She looked nervous, but she pulled the first present out and started to carefully take the paper off.

El’s POV

It’s always so much pressure. What if I didn’t like it? People expect polite social lies, but Daddy does not like polite social lies. And it stresses me out.

I smiled once I’d unwrapped the first gift. I shouldn’t have worried. “You got Stella pajamas,” I said.

“I did,” he agreed, smiling at me. “I figured that the tutu isn’t always appropriate.”

I shook my head, “No Daddy. Tutus are always a good look, but new clothes are always appreciated.” I grabbed Stella and put the polka dot pajamas on her, and then I looked at Daddy. “You now,” I told him.

And I was back to wanting to chew my fingers because I was nervous. I was never sure that I was getting anybody the right thing, and I was worried he wouldn’t like what I bought.

“A new watch!” 

I watched his eyes carefully, checking to make sure he was actually happy. He seemed happy. And I had spent like 2 months looking at different watches before picking this one.

“The strap on yours broke,” I explained, “And you kept forgetting to get it fixed. So when I saw this one...” I trailed off.

“Thank you,” he leaned in to kiss me. “Open another one,” he nodded at my stocking.

We took turns, and it took close to an hour before we finished with just the stockings. Daddy had managed to strike a balance between stuff I would love when I was feeling little and things that I could take to work. 

“Let’s take a break,” he suggested, once we’d opened up our smaller gifts. We still had everything from under the tree, and I wanted to keep going.

“No Daddy,” I objected, “More presents.”

He grabbed me, dragging me over to rest in his lap. “No Ellie. More presents later,” he teased me, tickling me as he said it.

I sighed, unhappy with the edict, but then I settled myself into his lap and began toying with Stella. She’d gotten several new outfits, and I wanted to see what she would look like in them.

Mark’s POV

El seemed calmer as she settled into my arms, and I watched her closely as she played with Stella. Stockings had gone okay. She’d relaxed as we’d gone through them; by the end, she actually seemed excited as each gift was unwrapped.

I would give us an hour, and then we could maybe try a few more presents. Hopefully, if we just took the day slowly, she wouldn’t get overwhelmed. And, I was already making plans for next year. We were definitely going smaller. Maybe I could convince our families not to exchange gifts. I hadn’t realized how upsetting El found it.

My reverie was interrupted by one of her icy hands touching my cheek. She had relaxed so much that she was now laying with just her head in my lap, and she had been engrossed in playing with Stella.

“You’re mad?” she asked, her eyes worried.

I shook my head no, smiling. “No Baby. I’m not mad. Just thinking.”

She averted her eyes, feigning interest in Stella’s face. “You liked your presents?”

“I loved my presents,” I told her. “Thank you. Does Stella like her new stuff?”

She nodded, “Uh huh.”

“I was thinking,” I told her, “That we should try to have Christmas mornings alone like this every year. What do you think about that?”

She smiled at that, “I like this. It’s a lot...quieter? Not so...” she trailed off, waving her hands near her face, in the gesture she used when she was overwhelmed.

“They’re loud,” I commented, meaning our families.

She nodded, playing with Stella again. “Stella doesn’t like it. It’s too much noise and too much moving. And somebody always gets mad. It’s better like this.”

I played with her hair as she talked with me. “I don’t like it either,” I told her.

“It’s better when it’s just us,” she told me.

We lapsed into silence, both of us thinking.

Finally, she said something. “They won’t be mad at me though? Because I don’t want to see everybody? It’s just too much.”

Even as she was trying to explain, her shoulders were tensing and rising.

“They won’t be mad Baby,” I reassured her. “And if they are, it doesn’t matter. You only have to worry about whether I’m happy. And this makes me happy.”

She nodded, her eyelids starting to flutter shut.

“I think we should go take a nap,” I suggested.

She shook her head, not bothering to open her eyes, “No Daddy,” she said. “I’m not sleepy.”

I slid out from underneath her so that I could stand, and then I picked her up. “I’m sleepy though, and I’ll be lonely without you.”

“You’re not really,” she mumbled, curling against my chest.

“No,” I faked a big yawn. “I’m exhausted. You wear me out Princess.”

Her eyelids popped open at that, and she looked at me, panicked. “I don’t,” she objected, shaking her head quickly.

“It’s okay Baby,” I reassured her, cursing myself. She wasn’t good at picking up on stuff like that; she always assumed that I was being serious. “Daddy’s kidding. I just need a nap. And I want you to come with me.” 

As I was telling her this, I was walking up the stairs to our bedroom. I settled her into the bed and then climbed in next to her.

Spooning up behind her, I gave her a kiss again. “This is another good thing about just us. We can sleep if we want.”

She nodded at that, eyes closed.

We managed to nap for a while. When I woke up, it was to El pushing at my shoulder. “Daddy,” she was whispering urgently. “Wake up. Time to get up again Daddy.”

I threw my arm over my eyes, “Five more minutes.”

She had been kneeling, and now she leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Wet Daddy.”

Well, that woke me up. I got out of bed to change her, and then she had no desire to go back to sleep.

“More presents,” she told me. “And we gotta make dinner Daddy.”

“It’s only 1:00,” I pointed out, even as I allowed her to lead me down the stairs.

“It takes a long time though Daddy. Come on, let’s open more presents.”

She bounced over to the couch, sitting down and looking at me expectantly. “Presents Daddy,” she repeated.

I grabbed a few packages from under the tree, and I handed her one.

We traded off opening presents. She was excited about the books I had bought her. I’d gotten a set of all 9 Little House books for us to read together, and I’d finally cracked and bought her Lucky, even though I was worried it would trigger her. Dr. Finnegan had insisted that I had to loosen the reins eventually and let her read things that she wanted, and I’d acquiesced. Although she wouldn’t be reading it tonight.

I was surprised, but happy, when I opened up all of The Walking Dead comics. I’d never really been a comic person, but we’d watched the show, and it was oddly entertaining.

“I know, I know,” she said, “You don’t read comic books. Mike says they’re amazing. And he might be an ass, but he knows his stuff.”

I smiled at that, and we continued. It was mostly typical Christmas stuff, and she seemed to be relaxing with each present.

When we were down to the last three presents under the tree, I insisted on her opening the one I’d bought.

She carefully unwrapped the small box, and her eyes widened when she saw what was inside. “You bought me the necklace,” she breathed, pulling it out of the box and turning it in her hands.

I nodded, smiling at her. “I went back after the day we were shopping together. Let me help you put it on.” 

She turned so that I could hook the necklace around her neck, and then she gently laid her fingers against the pendant. “Thank you,” she finally said.

“It’s engraved on the back,” I told her, happy that she seemed happy with it.

She flipped it over, reading the back carefully. Upside down, a trick that I was still impressed by. As I was thinking that, I realized that her eyes had filled with tears.

“Baby? What’s wrong?”

She quickly brushed the tears away. “Nothing. I just...kind of adore you. I mean, you’re big and bossy and your hands are far too large, but you’re perfect.”

I’d chosen a quote from a song that El liked to sing when she was half-distractedly doing the dishes. On the back of the heart, the side that hung against her chest, it said, “What if you lose yourself sometimes/Then I’ll be the one to find you, safe in my heart.”

I pulled her against me, and we sat for a minute. I wasn’t sure what to say to that, and I wasn’t sure if she was happy crying or sad crying.

Finally, I went with a joke. “Me and Mary Poppins.”

She giggled, sounding a little watery still, but a laugh nonetheless, and we sat in silence for a little bit while she composed herself. 

She was the one who broke the embrace, reaching to grab the final two boxes. “This one, and then that one,” she said, offering them to me.

Her face was resolute, and I could tell that she was doing the breathing exercises Dr. Finnegan had worked on with her.

“Baby? You okay?” I asked, nervous about opening the gifts in front of me. Whatever they were, they were stressing her out.

She nodded. “Just open them. It’ll get better once you do it.”

I frowned, but I quickly complied. Pulling the top off of the first box, I found a silk scarf inside. It was the same shade of blue I liked to buy things for her in; the exact color of her eyes.

I pulled it out, giving her a questioning look, and she rolled her eyes. “Just open the other box too.”

Things got a bit clearer as I stripped the paper off of that box and opened it. Inside, there was a pair of (fur lined) handcuffs. 

“We don’t have to,” I told her calmly. It was something I’d done in the past, but El was so nervous about anything restricting her movements.

“I know,” she smiled at me, clearly trying to be brave. “I want to. You want to do it. I trust you.” She took a deep breath. “We just...we have to go slow, and maybe just the blindfold or the handcuffs. Not both together to begin with. Okay?” 

She looked at me, begging me to tell her this was okay with me. I carefully put both gifts away and closed the boxes. Then, placing them on the floor out of her sight, I grabbed her hands.

“We do not have to do either of them El. Do you understand me? Yes, I find it fun, but it’s okay if you don’t want to do it. I’m more than happy with everything the way it is.”

Her voice was taking on that vaguely mechanical tone she used when she got upset. “Bondage is a common fantasy for American men. The most common sexual fantasy, actually. I can do it.” She nodded resolutely.

“No,” I said shortly. 

“But that’s your Christmas present,” she protested. “It was a surprise for you.” 

“I understand that, and it means a lot to me that you’re willing to do it. But not until we talk to Dr. Finnegan about it. Understood?”

“I don’t want to talk to my therapist about our sex life,” she said, taking on the vaguely snotty tone that made me think of what she probably sounded like in high school.

“Then we don’t do it period. Those are my limits. We talk with Dr. Finnegan about it first. If she says it’s okay, then we’ll try it. But I’m not going to agree just because you think that you should be okay with it.”

She was unhappy with that, and she opened her mouth to continue arguing. I cut her off before she got herself into trouble.

“Who is in charge?” I asked, making eye contact and trying to remind her.

“You are,” she said unhappily.

“So if I say no?”

“Then we don’t. But I’d be fine.”

“Stick with the first answer Princess. That was the right one.” I began picking up stuff, wanting to distract her from the conversation.

“I still think I’d-” I raised my hand to stop her.

“Do you want a Christmas spanking?” I asked her, warning clear in my voice. This was the line; she could cross or not as she chose.

She shook her head no.

“Then help me clean up, and then we can play with your new toys.

She complied with that, and I quickly put away the final presents. Out of sight, out of mind. At least, that was my hope.


End file.
